


Last mirror he'll likely see in a while

by bellabearbella



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: 1982, Homeless Stan Pines, Pre-Portal Incident (Gravity Falls)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:46:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26457391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellabearbella/pseuds/bellabearbella
Summary: Stanley Pines has been on his own for almost ten years.He has found a cheap motel room and finally gets to look at himself in a mirror.It's the last mirror he'll likely see in a while.
Kudos: 14





	Last mirror he'll likely see in a while

He pauses to look in the floor length mirror hanging from the back of the motel room’s cupboard doors. It’s the last mirror he’ll likely see in a while so he can’t help but linger on his reflection. His eyes are sunken into his head, the bags under them are so heavy they would make any flight attendant nervous. 

He swipes a calloused hand under his nose, it’s a slightly bent one, misshapen from so many breakages. His fingers rest on the choppy stubble on his chin before he glides his fingers through the top of his hair. It’s clean for once, having managed to score this motel room with an included shower three nights ago, but it is getting long, the curled ends resting on his shoulders. 

He chuckles, deep and hoarse, as he imagines what his Ma would say. ‘Stanley Filbrick Pines! A mullet? Really? Please get yourself a haircut!’

He would cut it himself but well it was… October, October the uh… the 19th? He glances behind his shoulders, checking the glowing digital clock on the nightstand, yeah it’s the 19th. It is almost winter again and the mop on his head will prove itself useful when the days become too cold. 

He shrugs on his rust coloured bomber jacket, the fluff on the hood is matted and there are grease stains on the sleeves but it does it’s job well and… well he could never bring himself to throw it out. He has had it for almost 10 years, it was in his car the day he left…

He shakes his head and moves on, grunting as he turns his sight to his gut, it has definitely grown over the years but he supposes that’s what happens when you are forced to choose the cheapest food that has the highest caloric count around to stay alive, that is, of course, when he can even afford it. He sighs, using the four seconds it takes his breath to settle to reset his thoughts. He absentmindedly sticks a hand in his jacket pocket, fingers brushing against a card. He has other things to focus on. His eyes tear away from the mirror.

It’s time to leave again.


End file.
